Love and Honor
by CharlesTheBold
Summary: Joan is horrified when she learns that Adam and Bonnie may have gotten back together, but she doesn't know the whole story. COMPLETE. Please R&R.
1. Adam in the Tumult

**Love and Honor**

_Disclaimer: JOAN OF ARCADIA is the creation of Barbara Hall and I have no legal rights to the story or characters. My only motive in presenting this story is to have fun and maybe share it._

_Author's Note: this is a sequel to THE REVELATION OF JOAN, but you needn't read that story first. It is set in August 2005, after the spring in which Joan and Adam broke up._

**Chapter 1 Adam in the Tumult**

Adam Rove walked up the stairs to the church entrance. He was not a member and seldom attended, though when he did the art and ritual had a powerful effect on him. It was not an effect that could be put into words or built into a doctrine, but then that was true of a lot of things that affected Adam.

Today he had a specific reason for going. He had heard that Helen Girardi, his art teacher, had donated a picture to the church and that it had gotten a lot of attention from local artists. Some of the attention was not flattering, but that sort of backbiting came with the territory. Adam had not seen Mrs. G since school let out. That was not surprising for a student/teacher relationship, yet Adam had the distinct impression that Mrs. G had been avoiding him all summer, and that he had to make the effort to reconnect.

It was not immediately visible, of course. He finally had to approach a group of nuns. Had they been praying he would have respected their privacy, but in fact they seemed to be gossiping about somebody named Lily. One of them was saying "I suppose it's a way to keep her vows of chastity after all, marrying a man who can't do it--" then looked apprehensive as Adam walked up.

"I'm looking for a picture "St. Joan Rising above the Tumult". Can you tell me--?"

"Down that corridor." The nun pointed.

Adam walked in the indicated direction, and soon spotted the artwork on the wall, recognizing his teacher's style even without seeing the label. It was in two highly contrasting parts: the low half dominated by flames, with vague sinister figures wandering around like damned souls in Hell. In the upper half a vividly drawn figure of the saint floated against a beautiful, serene blue sky.

One part of Adam professionally admired the design and execution of the painting, while another part zeroed on the face of the saint.

Jane's face.

Of course, he told himself. Mrs. G had needed a teenaged girl to model for Joan, and had used her own daughter. But all the same it seemed that it was Jane, not the saint, who was floating up there, disdainful of the tumult. Disdaining Adam.

Of course she had reason for disdaining him. Last spring, after more than a year of chaste but powerful love affair with Jane, he had betrayed her with Bonnie McLean, acting on impulses that he still did not quite understand. And by that betrayal he had alienated Jane herself, but also Mrs. G, and his childhood friend Grace Polk.

Entering the main body of the church, he saw the confessionals, and was tempted to unload his guilt to a priest. But it seemed futile. There was only one person whose forgiveness mattered, and she wasn't granting it.

Adam ran out of the church. On the stairs he nearly ran into a man in priest's garb. "Hey, careful, young man. A month ago a girl fell down these very steps and had to be taken to the hospital."

Adam muttered a promise to be careful and kept going. He didn't have a vehicle; his father had been reluctant to loan him his truck ever since Adam had secretly used it for an unsuccessful seduction of Jane. But Arcadia was a small city, and it was only a few blocks walk to home.

He was walking on his own street when he heard a familiar voice call "Adam?"

It was Bonnie.

He looked at her long enough to confirm her identity, then walked past. "Go away."

"Adam, we need to talk."

"You may need to talk. I don't need anything from you."

No more speech, though he could hear footsteps behind him. Suddenly:

"I made a man of you! Doesn't that count for something?"

He turned angrily. "You did NOT make a man of me. You made a jerk of me. Not even that. I made a jerk of myself." He turned back and kept walking.

Another delay, then: "Adam, please. I need your help."

Something in her tone made Adam stop. Not the personal appeal, but the tone of desperation, which with Adam had reason to be familiar. A few years ago his mother had committed suicide. None of her friends or family had understood her state of mind, though many had realized in retrospect that she had been pleading for help. And this past spring had been stranded in a national park in a storm, and a total stranger named Ryan Hunter had come to his aid. And Adam was scarcely a stranger to Bonnie.

He faced her again. "OK, I'm listening."

She looked around at the neighborhood, and although nobody was around at the moment, she looked frightened. "I can't talk in the open. Your shed?"

Adam's shed was the place he built his sculptures and made his drawings. It was his inner sanctum, and he did not want Bonnie there. But if she was genuinely in trouble, his distaste scarcely mattered. "All right."

He walked down his driveway to his backyard, where the shed was located. Once he was in, he bolted the door. "OK, now we've got privacy. What is it? Don't pretend that we've still got a bond. I know you took another boyfriend after we broke up."

"I'm not denying that. A college guy. But he dumped me."

"So? Jane dumped me. Why is your dumping such a crisis?"

She put her hand on her belly. "Because he knocked me up. Adam, I'm going to have a baby."

(to be continued)


	2. Helpful Helen

**Chapter 2 Helpful Helen**

DINGDONG.

Bonnie stood up reluctantly. Partly her lassitude was due to morning sickness, partly to an irrational feeling that if she opened the door, the outside world would grab her and drag her out of her refuge. But the Roves were expecting a repairmen for a plumbing problem, and since they were both out at the moment, the least Bonnie could do was answer the door and let him in.

It wasn't the repairman. It was Bonnie's art teacher from school, and the teacher looked as startled as the girl. "_Bonnie?_ What are you doing here?"

"I had a big fight with my parents. The Roves said I could stay here until things calm down." That was half-true. Mrs. G didn't have to know what the fight was about; after all, the baby was not showing yet.

Mrs. G frowned but apparently decided not to pry. "Adam asked me for information about an arts contest in Baltimore. I brought a brochure. Do you think he'd mind if I left it in his shed?"

"No. Go ahead."

Mrs. G nodded and started to walk toward the driveway. Bonnie shut the door in relief that things hadn't gone worse. Her situation here was precarious. She had listened (from hiding) as Carl Rove spelled out his attitude to his son. If Adam had been responsible for Bonnie's condition, or even if he had set her on the path by taking away her virginity, the Roves had a duty to help Bonnie. But it seemed that Adam was just one lover out of many, and the Roves could not afford to get involved. Bonnie could stay only until she found somewhere else to go.

Nor were they being hypocritical about "affording it". Bonnie could see for herself (having grown up with similar signs in her apartment) that they didn't have much to spare. Even to give her a bed to sleep in, Adam had to move into in with his father and leave his room to her. (Her suggestion that she and Adam could share the bed was, to say the least, not popular)

BANGBANGBANG.

Somebody at the front door again, not noticing or not bothering with the doorbell. Bonnie thought she'd better answer.

Mrs. G again. She was looking agitated, though she also seemed to be trying to maintain a grownup's dignity. "May I come in?" It sounded like an order. Bonnie mutely stood aside as the other stormed in.

Mrs. G threw a book down on the nearest chair. Bonnie's copy of WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN YOU'RE EXPECTING, a book clearly useless for a middle-aged widower and teenaged boy. "Are you pregnant?"

"Y-Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"The kit said YES. And it's been two months since -- you know." She was too frazzled to remember the euphemism and didn't want to say something vulgar to the older woman.

"Having a period. Is it Adam's?"

Bonnie suddenly could not bring herself to admit the truth: that the Roves had let her in like a stray puppy. "Y-yes."

Mrs. G sank into a chair and closed her eyes as if that revelation was physically painful. After regaining her composure, she asked," Have you talked to your parents?"

Finally, something that Bonnie could be honest about. "Yeah. They wanted me to get an abortion. My mother wanted to abort ME, back when I was inside her, but somebody talked her out of it. I figured my kid deserved the same chance, and said no. That's when they threw me out."

"Both of them?"

"My dad's really just a step-dad. He hasn't wanted me around for some time."

Mrs G looked pained again, this time shocked by the goings on inside Bonnie's family. "Have you tried talking to a professional? A doctor? A social worker?"

"I don't have money for a doctor. And I've talked to social workers before; they scare me."

Mrs. G pondered for a moment. "I think I can help. My new daughter-in-law is a counselor at a church. She can either advise you about your options, or find somebody who can. Either way, I promise they won't be scary. But it'll be a couple of days before I see her. Can you hold out that long?"

"Yeah."

Mrs. G got a pencil from her purse and wrote on the back flap of WHAT TO EXPECT. "Here's my own number, in case of emergency. But please don't call unless it's an emergency. My daughter is going to, as you young people say, freak out."

"Thank you, Mrs. G."

"I'm your teacher, and you need help, so it's a duty. Good-bye."

Bonnie showed her out the door. Only when she was out the door and backing out in her car was Bonnie calm enough to think about something outside of her own situation. Why was Mrs. G's daughter going to freak out?

Then she remembered Mrs. G's full name, and the real name of Adam's former girlfriend, the one he kept calling Jane. The girl who apparently loved Adam, but whose refusal to sleep with him had tempted him to turn to Bonnie.

Helen and Joan Girardi.

(to be continued)


	3. Judging Joan

**Love and Honor**

**Chapter 3 Judging Joan**

_(Author's Note: The episode TRIAL AND ERROR went out of its way to introduce a character named Judge Patricia Claymore, and I wondered at the time if she was intended to play a role in Joan's future. So I decided to bring her back. _

_Luke and Grace's vacation is described in another fanfic, RURAL ARCADIA._

_The title, of course, is based on Barbara Hall's other series, JUDGING AMY)_

Joan yawned.

Bad idea, she thought. If a certain Deity thought she was bored, He might come up with a new task for her to do. But then, the Deity could see into her soul, and would know that she was bored whether she yawned or not, so why bother suppressing it?

She understood perfectly well why she was bored. Her evening job at the bookstore had expanded into daylight hours during the summer, but the patronage hadn't picked up, so she was stranded at the store now with little to do. And there was nobody to talk to even when she left. Luke and Grace knew about "God" now, but as their first mission God has "suggested" that they go on a vacation down in North Carolina, where some relatives of Joan's ran a farm. Since they had agreed not to mention their secret in writing, their Emails about their activities were very uninformative: Grace was learning how to ride a horse (!) and Luke, less surprisingly, was upgrading the cousins' computer.

Adam and Friedmann were both still in the doghouse, from Joan's point of view. Adam had betrayed her by sleeping with Bonnie; Friedmann had made a crude pass at her while high on drugs. She wasn't ready to forgive either one.

She was feeling a little distant from her parents at the moment. Simply living through this summer reminded her of the terrible last summer, in Crazy Camp, and the faithfulness of Grace and Luke reminded her by contrast of how her parents had treated her like a lunatic last year. Besides, her mother had seemed particularly moody last night, though she wouldn't say why.

At least Kevin and his new wife were back from their honeymoon, and would dine at the Girardi's tonight. Joan wanted to get to know Lily better, now that the ex-nun was her sister-in-law. At the least she would be another older female that she could talk to, when she wasn't getting along with Mom. Though nearly thirty, Lily acted like she wanted to be in Joan's generation.

The door of the bookshop opened, causing the bell to tingle. The visitor was a tall, well-dressed black woman. For a moment Joan wondered if God had picked a new disguise, but the woman turned toward Joan and asked "Ms. Girardi?"

Definitely not God. He/She/It always called her "Joan", and never in a questioning tone. On the other hand, this wasn't a standard customer.

"Yes. May I help you?"

"I'm Patricia Claymore." A second's hesitation. "Judge from the Superior Court."

"Have I done something wrong?" asked Joan in dismay.

The woman laughed. "Oh, no. Quite the contrary. Is there a place that we can sit?"

"Back here," said Joan, guiding her to the reading tables.

Ms. Claymore seated herself and gestured for Joan to do likewise. "A few months ago I visited a high school class conducting a Mock Trial. You played the prosecutor."

"Oh!" she said, suddenly remembering the day -- and also remembering why she wanted to forget it. It was the day on which she learned of Adam's betrayal.

"I was very impressed by your performance -- the combination of passion and logic. And since I was passing through Arcadia, I thought I'd visit you and tell you personally. Have you considered a legal career?"

"Oh, no. You don't understand. The boy playing the accused was my ex-boyfriend, and I was furious at him. The prosecution was just a pretext for grilling him. I don't understand anything about jury puddings."

She laughed again. "You mean jurisprudence. Still, I liked your style, the _way_ that you challenged him. My friend Mr. Harbison is teaching an AP Law course this fall at your high school; I think you should try it out. Even if it doesn't appeal to you as a career, it may impress the colleges you look at."

"Thank you, your honor."

"Oh, I'm only honorable in court. So long, Ms. Girardi."

Joan accompanied her guest to the door. Once she was alone again, she smiled in triumph. At last, a grownup who thought highly of her! Aside from God Himself, and a few eccentrics like old Driesbach the history teacher, most grownups seemed to like taking her down, like Vice-Principal Price.

She went back in the stacks and found a book that she thought would make a good introduction to the subject. When she had sat at the reading table again and looked at a few pages, she heard a familiar voice behind her say: "'Law for Dummmies'? You're no dummy, Joan."

It was "Old Lady God". After Luke and Grace had joined in the secret the trio had decided to put labels on all the strangers, so they wouldn't have to keep saying things like "You know, the one with the earring and black lipstick."

"I figured you'd be by, after the judge visited," said Joan. "Have you seen Grace and Luke?"

"I see all," said the old lady.

"You know what I mean. And I don't mean that I want to hear about Grace's horse or Luke's latest computer."

"Everything is proceeding according to plan."

"Which is?"

"I'd rather not say. The less you know, the more freedom of action you have."

Joan sighed. "And I suppose your latest advice to me is equally cryptic."

"Not really. Take the Law course, Joan, and do your best at it."

"Wow, that's straightforward. So the Law's really important?"

"Yes." The old woman got up and started toward the door, then suddenly turned as if she remembered something. That was part of her act; Joan was sure that She never forgot anything for a second. "But there's one thing you should keep in mind, Joan. Two thousand years ago, somebody asked a wise rabbi to sum up the Law. He said 'Whatever is hateful to you, do not do to others. That is the Law, the rest is commentary.'" With that, and her customary wave, the Deity rounded a bookcase corner and disappeared.

Dinners at the Girardi's were always festive, given the combined culinary talents of Mom and Dad, but tonight's was especially so. Not only were Kevin and Lily back from their honeymoon, but Joan could deliver her own good news. Both Kevin and Will were familiar with Judge Claymore's name, and were suitably impressed. She left God's role out, of course.

After the meal Joan's parents exchanged an odd glance, and Will said: "Kevin, why don't we go into the garage and look at the boat?"

"Sure, Dad, though after seeing Niagara Falls, I feel defeated already." But he said that last statement cheerfully. Everybody knew that the boat was a lot more fun to build than it would be to float.

"Why don't you go with them, Joan?" asked Mom.

Joan could tell what was going on: clearing the menfolk and the virgin teenager out of the room so that she could have some frank girl talk with Lily. But virgin or not, Joan wanted to be included. She was nearly 18, dammit. "But, Mom, I haven't worked on the boat for nearly two years--"

"But it was your project to start with, and you might get interested again--"

"All right."

Joan followed her father and brother, but deliberately hung back. "You guys go ahead. I, um, need to go upstairs and pee." As they disappeared into the garage, Joan tiptoed near the kitchen window. She didn't think she should feel guilty about eavesdropping. Mom would tell Dad the important stuff, and Lily would tell Kevin, and Joan would be left out of the loop. It wasn't fair. And if she was being naughty, God would probably pop up and tell her so.

Mom's voice: So how went the honeymoon?

Lily: Just great. The falls were magnificent, one of the jewels of God's creation.

Mom: And--?

Lily: The American side was all industrialized, but the Canadians built a lovely park. I strolled there several times with Kevin.

Mom: And--?

Lily (severely): "If you're asking, Helen, whether Kevin and I were able to consummate the marriage in spite of his disability, then I'm going to say one word, and then I'm going to ask you to stay the hell out of my sex life.

Mom: (flustered): And the word is --?

Lily: Wow!

Joan snorted, to keep from laughing out loud. Not only was Lily's joke on Mom hilarious, but Joan at last knew that the accident hadn't deprived Kevin of one crucial pleasure. Which Joan herself had not experienced yet.

Mom: Well, now that I'm forbidden from discussing THAT subject, I might as well bring up something serious. I've come across a girl in trouble, a pregnant teenager. I hate to bother you with a counseling situation just after your honeymoon--

Lily (all business): I understand; crises are never convenient. Name?

Mom: Bonnie McLean.

Joan gasped. What the hell was Mom doing with Bonnie?

Lily: Address?

Mom: She's staying with a family called the Roves. Two hundred--

Joan couldn't stand to stay in hiding any longer. Charging into the house, she cried:

"Bonnie and Adam are together again! And that bitch is having his baby!"

(to be continued)


	4. Meditations

**Love and Honor**

_(Author's Note: The TV show never explained how Bonnie carried out her seduction of Adam, and I thought it would be clever to use their common interest in art. By necessity this chapter is more sexual than most, but I think I've stayed within the bounds of the T rating.)_

**Chapter 4 Meditations**

Mom glared at her. "Watch your language, young lady. And how dare you eavesdrop on a private conversation?"

"You're just embarrassed that I heard you guys talk dirty."

"You're grounded for the evening. Go to your room."

"But I want to hear about Bonnie."

"I don't care what you want. Go to your room."

Joan obediently started for the stairs, but she couldn't resist sounding off. "I get praised by a judge, but when I get home I'm grounded. That whore steals my boyfriend, and everybody wants to help her out. What do I have to do to get respect around here, get myself knocked up?"

"Joan!"

Joan got to her room, slammed the door, and lay on her bed crying.

Sex confused her terribly. Her upbringing had lacked religious rules as to its rightness or wrongness, and God had been curiously noncommittal on the subject. Sex had filled Lily with delight, yet having it forced on her by a rapist in college had traumatized her Mom for years. Luke had once boasted to Joan that "I intend to get rid of my virginity at soon as possible", yet now that he had found a wonderful (if eccentric) girl in Grace, he showed no tendency to rush things. And Joan herself didn't know what she wanted. She had been about to take the plunge, six months ago, but when Adam caressed her hip she panicked, realizing that she wasn't ready to surrender her body to a man, even Adam. And as a result she had lost Adam to a slut with nothing to offer except the sex.

KNOCKNOCK. "It's Lily. May I come in?"

"I'm grounded."

"I don't count; I'm family. May I come in?"

Joan wiped off her tears. "All right, if you insist. Come to gloat?"

Lily walked in, looking solemn. "Nah. Just wanted to explain some things."

"Go ahead," Joan said fatalistically.

"I'm a counselor, and even though I'm not allowed to hear confessions, people do tell me things on the assumption that I'll keep their secrets. You should be proud that the judge took an interest in you, but if you become a lawyer, people are going to expect you to keep things confidential too. So learn to respect privacy, will you?"

Joan wrenched her mind off of Adam and onto the current subject. She realized that her notion of privacy and been rather skewed for two years because of her friendship with a Being who always knew what she was doing or thinking. And yet God did respect privacy in a way. Though privy to the thoughts of everybody else in the world, he never betrayed them to Joan. That, in fact, was probably part of the frustrating secrecy of her missions; He couldn't tell her in advance what people were going to do. Joan tried to put herself in a purely human frame of mind.

"I'm sorry, Lily. I was mainly concerned to hear about Kevin and whether he could, you know -- it wasn't to be kinky. I want him to be happy."

"I understand. I'll tell Helen that you apologized and maybe she'll let you out." Lily rummaged in the pocket of her jeans and removed her hand, still empty. "Crap. I gave up smoking for Kevin's sake, but I still reach for a cigarette when I get tense."

"Nuns say 'crap'?" asked Joan, amused.

"Ex-nuns going through nicotine withdrawal do. Never mind. I've got something more positive to say. A few weeks ago I told Luke that, if something comes up and he can't talk to his parents about it, he can come to me. I'm making the same offer to you."

It occurred to Joan that Lily, who had devoted a decade of her life to an unseen God, might understand Joan's peculiar service better than any of her other acquaintances. If Luke and Grace had not been let into the secret recently, Joan might have been tempted to talk about it. But there was no urgency about it now.

"Thanks, Lily. Maybe sometime in the future---

---

While Joan was lying in bed meditating on sex, her former rival was doing the same in the Rove residence half a mile away. But while Joan was dwelling on ambivalence, Bonnie was recalling a plan of seduction that had worked, though with unforeseen consequences.

About six months ago her life had been transformed, as she found her hobby of painting merging into the grand tradition of Art. Joan Girardi had been the one to introduce her, and Mrs. G was the purveyor of information, but to Bonnie, Adam was the symbol of the brave new world. He was totally different from any other boy she knew, quiet and sensitive and devoid of machismo. But rumor said that he was sleeping with Joan, and Bonnie did not want to poach on another girl's turf.

That had changed during one lesson in which Mrs. G had shown the class computer images of famous artworks. Bonnie was intrigued by the fact that famous artists could paint pictures of woman with no clothes on, without being accused of producing pornography. Adam, however, had looked troubled at those same pictures. She asked him about it after class.

"Well, um, I've never looked at a naked woman before, except in other pictures. It's disturbing."

"You're kidding. What about your Joan?"

"Jane? We've never been intimate, and she's rather bashful about her body. There was an incident last year when some girl took her picture changing in the locker room, and she was terribly embarrassed, even though it didn't reveal much. It's complicated."

It might be complicated to Adam, but it was a liberating discovery to Bonnie. If Adam wasn't sleeping with Joan, then they weren't really lovers, and that made him fair game. And she also knew his weakness.

Just before the next art class, she took Adam aside. "Hey, Adam, have you considered painting one of those nudie things? I'm willing to model, if you like."

"Nah, it'd be awkward. Besides, abstract sculpture is more my thing." But she thought she saw a flicker of interest before he turned her down.

During class she tried to think of another approach. She was far too young to remember a film scene in which the heroine invited the hero to "come up and look at my etchings", but she arrived at a similar idea.

"Adam, I've got a lot of cool pictures I've drawn at home. Why don't you come take a look? I can't bring them to school, or Price'd have a fit." That last sentence was the clincher; Vice Principal Price was the bete noire of all Adam's friends, and even Mrs. G was said to hate him. Adam agreed to visit that Monday after school.

During the weekend Bonnie rented a special camera that could be programmed with a timer. Then, while her parents were safely away at some sports event, she took off her clothes and let it photograph her at various angles. Front, back, and side views, in unconscious imitation of an occasion when she had been taken to the police station and had her mug-shot taken. When the computer printed out the digital shots, the frontal view was too bold even for her, but she decided to pin up the other two with her paintings and sketches.

Adam, arriving after school on Monday, was irritatingly slow to notice, dwelling on her paintings first. "You've had an unhappy life, I see. I recognize the symptoms. Back after my Mom killed herself, I tried to express my grief in my art, and apparently you had the same outlet." Finally he noticed one of the pictures. "What's this?"

"Oh, I decided to try one of those nudie pictures that Mrs. G was talking about. I'll use that as a model."

"Who's the woman?"

"Me," said Bonnie with some exasperation. "You think some other girl would let me take a picture of her butt? And that's me too."

Adam looked, and it was clear that the pictures fascinated him, and not just in an artistic way. But not enough to follow up her advantage.

"Hey, why don't you take those two pictures and have a try at the nudie thing? I've got duplicates."

Adam seemed to accept the pretext, and when he left he had the two pictures in his pocket.

During the following week Adam avoided her, even sitting at a distance in art class. But she found out later that Adam had consulted a friend named Friedmann who claimed to have a very active love life. Adam had complained that he tended to deal with life in the form of striking visual images, and at the moment he was struck by images of lust. Jane would shocked if he even mentioned them. Friedmann, quoting somebody named Oscar the Wild, advised him that "The best way to get rid of a temptation is to give in to it."

That weekend, during her parents' absence, Adam paid a call on Bonnie, stammering for worse than she had ever seen. "I don't think I can resist any longer -- will you --? I've brought protection."

She would, and she did.

Now it was four months later. She had another man's child in her womb, and anxious thoughts filled her brain, and all that pursuit of pleasure seemed to be from another life. But Adam had come through, giving her shelter, with no thought of resuming their affair. Simple human decency? A hint of a bond? Love? She didn't know, but at least she had chosen the right man.

(to be continued)


	5. Adam's Path

**Love and Honor**

_(Author's note: the movie that the Roves are watching in the middle of the chapter is DIRTY DANCING, and I have no permission to quote it, either.)_

**Chapter 5**

**Adam's Path**

"Is that you, Adam?" came Bonnie's voice as he entered the house. The sound was coming from her bedroom -- no, HIS bedroom, which she had usurped. When he had first offered shelter he thought it was clear that it was an emergency arrangement only; that she was supposed to look for a more permanent refuge.

Yet Bonnie did nothing, except complain that nausea and lack of energy were keeping her from accomplishing too much.

Surprisingly, Adam's father, who had originally resented Bonnie's imposition, accepted her excuse. He said he had seen similar morning sickness and mood swings in his wife when she was pregnant with Adam. And the fact that one such "mood swing" had ended in her suicide years later left him very anxious not to disturb Bonnie.

"Mrs. G was here, today," she said as he walked into the bedroom. "She wanted to give you this brochure, about that art contest in Baltimore."

He took it and examined it. Normally he would be interested in the genre of art and who would be attending, but today he skipped down to the price tag. "Wow! First prize, $5000. With that we can pay all your medical expenses, plus give the rest to Dad as a sort of rent."

"But it would be your prize, Adam, not mine."

He shrugged. "I don't need it for anything."

For some reason, that seemed to worry Bonnie instead of reassure her. Finally she blurted out: "Adam, I think I've done something awful."

"What is it?"

"When Mrs. G was here -- she realized that I was pregnant. I was too ashamed to explain how I screwed up my life with some college guy, so I said it was yours."

Nearly any other male might have exploded at that point. But Adam sat and tried to figure out the consequences. Ironically, Bonnie beat him to it.

"I wasn't trying to trap you into helping me. Look, Mrs. G said she'd send a counselor to me tomorrow, her daughter-in-law. I'll tell her the truth and she'll get the message back to Mrs. G."

Mrs. G had a daughter-in-law now? Somebody -- presumably Jane's older brother - must have gotten married, and nobody had bothered to tell Adam. That was a measure of how far he was in exile from what he once considered his second family, and that influenced his answer.

"Nah. It doesn't matter what they think of me anymore. Just concentrate on your own problems."

Adam's father came home from work about an hour later. Apparently hoping to defuse the tension, he had rented a video of a teen movie that he had enjoyed in his younger days. On finding that the film dated a year before his own birth, and that it was set even further back, around 1960, Adam doubted that he could relate to it. And yet when they watched he did find himself empathizing with the central character, who like Adam was sensitive, shy, and inarticulate. The only problem was that the character was a girl. Adam watched all the way to the point where she confided to her boyfriend that she was "scared of everything -- and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you."

Adam got up. The girl had expressed his feelings about Jane perfectly, except that he had already "walked out of this room", and knew that he was doomed never to enjoy that kind of love again.

"I'm going to the shed. I may work there all night. Don't worry about me."

His Dad was used to Adam being "struck by inspiration" and retreating the shed at odd times, and Bonnie was too wound up in her own problems to complain, so neither objected.

In the shed, Adam tried desperately to throw himself into a project. After all, if he as to win the contest money he had to have an artwork to enter in the first place. But none of his ideas worked. Finally he decided to stretch out on his workbench and sleep. Sometimes inspiration came in dreams.

_"Dad?" said a little girl's voice._

_"Yes, darling?"_

_"Can you help me with my pitcher?"_

_She handed him an incomprehensible scrawl, the sort of thing you'd expect from a three-year-old. He looked at it solemnly, and added an extra scrawl in one corner of the picture._

_"Mommy! Daddy helped me with my pitcher!"_

_"Already trying to turn her into an artist, aren't you?" came his wife's voice behind him. Adam turned around to look at --_

Nobody. He was awake and alone in the shed.

Whom had he married? Jane? Bonnie? Some other woman? He couldn't tell. But one thing that seemed clear: it wasn't just a random dream, but a glimpse into the future.

The next day the counselor, Lily Girardi, showed up. She struck Adam as rather weird, nearly thirty years old but full of the latest slang. Adam thought that might be a pose to make teens comfortable (though it had the opposite effect on him, and he tried to imagine its effect on Mrs. G). But he also noticed that she had tattoos, which was rather a permanent commitment.

She insisted on talking to Bonnie in privacy. After a half hour, she emerged to give the Rove men her opinion.

"Financially, I think we can help. There are charities to support pregnant women, particularly to persuade them not to go the abortion route, which is relevant here. Emotionally, I'm not so sure. I'm no psychologist, but it seems to me that Bonnie is very depressed and frightened. She's used to getting into scrapes and wiggling out of them again, but this is a crisis that simply can't be finessed. She needs outside support. And in particular, there's a matter of schooling. She wants to drop out, but she shouldn't lose the advantages of education, or she'll be stuck in poverty forever. Try to see that she goes. She should be able to get half a year in before she has to give birth."

Adam and his father stared at each other. Clearly they weren't going to be rid of Bonnie any time soon.

Suddenly the events of the past few days appeared to Adam in a new light. They weren't a series of bumblings, there were part of a vast metaphysical plan to bond Adam inextricably with Bonnie. No, not a plan -- that implied that Adam was a hopeless pawn. The image of a path worked better. Four months ago he had made a choice between Jane and Bonnie, and though it seemed momentary, it was a choice for life. As in the Robert Frost poem, the paths taken and not taken would make all the difference.

Adam had the image he needed for a picture. He also knew he was doomed.


	6. Where There's a Will, There's a Way

**Love and Honor**

**Chapter 6**

**Where There's a Will, There's a Way**

Helen walked slowly up the stairs, feeling terrible. This ought to have been one of the proudest days of Joan's life: praised by the judge, and with a possible career open to her. Instead it ended up with the girl being sent to her room like a little brat.

Helen made up her mind not to mention the acting-up and punishment to Luke when he got home from vacation Monday, only the news about the judge. Let him be proud of his sister.

Joan was lying on the bed, staring up into space. Helen wished she knew what was going through her mind.

"You can come down now," said Helen. "Lily persuaded me to forgive you."

"Whatever," Joan said. "What I really want is to know about Adam and Bonnie."

"All right." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I got an Email a few days ago from Adam, wanting to know about that arts contest in Baltimore. I decided to drop the brochure by his house today."

"Why?" asked Joan. "I thought you agreed that he had been a jerk."

"I've got many obligations, Joan. I'm your mother, but I'm also Adam's teacher, his mentor in artistic matters. He made me a reasonable request, I felt honor-bound to carry it out."

"Okay," said Joan sulkily. "Then what?"

"Bonnie answered the door. I found out a few minutes later that she was pregnant, and that her family had thrown her out because she wouldn't agree to an abortion. I agreed to send Lily, in her capacity as a counselor--"

"Because your Bonnie's mentor too," said Joan in the same sour voice.

"Not just that. I know you hate Bonnie, Joan, but there's an innocent baby to think of. Lots of things can go wrong in the womb, if the mother isn't careful or doesn't get proper medical attention. And personally, I admire Bonnie for standing up to her parents, risking everything for her child. But if it makes you feel any better, I can turn everything over to Lily now and you don't have to ever think about Adam again." She got up and started to the door. Suddenly Joan called out:

"None of this would have happened if I'd just agreed to go all the way with him last February. I really screwed up, by not letting myself get scr---"

"Don't say that, Joan," said Helen hastily, before she could get that last naughty word out. "You made the right decision, when you decided that you weren't ready for sex. You're only 17. I wish that a lot of your friends were as mature in judgement as you were."

"But it didn't get me anywhere," mourned Joan.

"Just put Adam out of your head, dear. You'll find a more decent boy."

"I'm trying. Unfortunately the only decent unattached boy I can think of right now is Luke, and brothers don't count."

Helena laughed at that, and slipped out.

A few hours later she was having another long conversation in a bedroom. This time it was with Will, and they were in the bed together.

"I don't understand why Joan was so upset," said Will. "Didn't they split up months ago?"

"It's complicated, Will."

"So? Tomorrow is Saturday. We can sleep late, and that gives us time to talk now."

Helen took a deep breath. "Okay. The first thing you need to know is that, last February, Joan and Adam went on an overnight trip out of town, without telling us."

"Did they--?" said Will, shocked.

"No, but it was a close thing. I got the full story from Joan afterward. It seems that they got in bed together, and engaged in some foreplay, but Joan panicked at the last minute and asked Adam to refrain. He respected that and didn't touch her, even thought they still had to share the bed for the rest of the night. Joan also mentioned that he had brought a condom, so that even if they did have sex, they would have been safe."

"For kids doing a stupid thing, they did show a lot of intelligence in the end," observed Will.

"Yeah. But the catch was, that Adam was very frustrated afterward."

"I can imagine. When I was his age --- umm, never mind. Go on."

"Then Bonnie came along. She was sexually experienced, and figured out Adam's problem with Joan, and she persuaded him to sleep with her instead. When Joan found out, she went ballistic."

"I remember. But why she is upset now, four months later?"

"Because she just found out that Bonnie is carrying Adam's baby. I suppose that she loves Adam in a way. An act of infidelity is one thing, but having a baby is a life-changing event. Now Adam's REALLY lost to her."

"Yeah. Poor kids. I wish I could help."

"The only thing I can think of is to pull out of that contest and give Adam a better chance to win. He could use the money."

"Hmm, don't pull out quite yet. Maybe we'll think of something."

Breakfast the next morning was even more disorganized than usual. Luke was still out of town visiting the cousins; Kevin and his wife now had an apartment of their own; Joan ate a couple of bites, mumbled that she wasn't hungry, and set out for her bookstore. That left Helen and Will, and even they were interrupted by a phone call, which Helen answered.

"It's Kevin. He says Lily is doing some counseling today, and asks if he can come work on the boat."

"Tell him thanks, but I've got an investigation."

"I thought you said your Saturday was free."

"Had a hunch on a case; I want to play it while it's hot."

Helen had been a policeman's wife for long enough to know that crime didn't limit itself to 9 to 5, nor did good crimefighting. Instead she organized the day around Will's absence. Kevin would work on the boat alone, and Helen was free to work on her picture, even though she hadn't decided whether to pull it or not.

A couple of weeks ago Grace, on vacation with Luke at Helen's cousins' farm, had seen a beautiful sunset which inspired her latent literary skills. She had described them in an Email to Joan, which the girl had shared. Helen had decided to paint the visual equivalent of the sunset. While working on it she decided that it represented a personal allegory. Another viewer wouldn't know it, but it made the painting more meaningful for her. The sun would represent her longing for God or religion, and the clouds surrounding the sun, illuminated from behind to various degrees, would represent the doubts that had impeded her search. But why, she wondered, was she so tempted to make the clouds so beautiful?

Dinner was far more organized than breakfast; it was a Girardi tradition. Only Joan, Helen, and Will were there, but that made it less noisy than usual, when Joan was tempted to argue with one of her brothers. As was also traditional, they discussed the events of their day.

"Well, I hope your investigation went well today," said Helen.

"Oh, quite well. I was looking into this business with Adam and Bonnie, and I came out with this." Will threw a check on the table. It was a $5,000 check made out to Bonnie McLean, and the signature read Don J. Tennerio.

"Who's this Tennerio guy?" asked Joan.

"The father of Bonnie's child."

"But I thought that was Adam!" Joan seemed stunned.

"No, Bonnie lied about that. In my profession you learn to get suspicious when inconsistencies appear in stories, and here was a crucial one. When Adam wanted you to sleep with him, he assured you that he had 'brought protection'."

Joan went red. "How did you know that?"

"I told him your story, Joan," said Helen.

"Now who's violating privacy?"

"Chill, Joan," Helen, who had wanted to use that particular bit of youth slang for years. "Let Will continue his account."

"The question," Will went on, "was: why didn't Adam take the same precautions with Bonnie as with Joan? And if he had, Bonnie wouldn't have gotten pregnant. So, being a detective, I went back to the source. I talked to Bonnie this morning and got her to tell me the real father's name. Don Tennerio, a college student about to start his sophomore year at the local college. He didn't tell her how to find him during the summer -- and I'm sure that was no accident -- but I knew how to get his home address out of government records. It was down in one of the Washington suburbs.

Then I paid Mr. Tennerio a visit and gave him a lecture on obligations. At first he would only put up enough money to pay for an abortion. I said that wouldn't cut it, and started dropping terms like 'statutory rape'."

Helen winced; any mention of rape probably revived her own tragedy. "Is he really guilty of that?"

"Statutory rape laws treat sexual contact between adults and minors. Of course what the lawmakers had in mind was a 'Lolita' situation -- a slick adult exploiting a child. Whether a jury would convict a nineteen-year-old for having sex with a seventeen-year-old who was already experienced is doubtful. But the prospect of being charged with a criminal count was enough to scare Mr. Tennerio into coughing up the money, which was the idea."

"Where did he get the money that fast?" asked Joan,

"Oh, his family is rich -- which may explain why he dazzled a poor kid like Bonnie in the first place. He was planning to set himself as a big man on campus in the sophomore year -- a car, lots of high-tech toys, maybe even a separate pad that would give him more privacy than a dorm. Now he's back to square one, but that's _his_ problem."

"We need to get that check to Bonnie as soon as possible," said Helen.

"I want to go, too," said Joan.

"Right. We'll go right after dinner. You know what's so bizarre about this situation? So many well-meaning individuals trying to do the right thing, when society has laws to make protect the weak against the strong."

"As long as you apply them creatively," observed Joan. Everybody laughed, and made plans for the visit.

(to be continued)


	7. Honor and Love

**Love and Honor**

**Chapter 7 Honor and Love**

On reaching the Rove house the Girardis split up. The parents decided to talk to Bonnie and Mr. Rove, not only telling her the good news but making sure she had a lot of grownup advice on spending the money wisely. This left Joan alone with Adam -- which was probably the idea. They went to the shed to talk, and that aroused a lot of poignant memories in Joan.

"So it isn't your child," Joan said.

"No," said Adam. "We always used protection. I knew from the start that her newer boyfriend was responsible."

"That's what Dad figured. But why did you get involved, then?"

"Bonnie was in trouble, Jane. And we had enough of a past that I felt honor-bound to do something."

"A past. So you're not in love with her now?"

"No. I wasn't really in love with her then. It was -- it's hard to explain to a girl. Lustful thoughts in my brain, and you wouldn't have any. I had the crazy idea that if I could satisfy the lust, I could deal with you better. Bonnie understood that at the time. To her it was one more hook-up, a pleasant game. To you, of course, it was a horrible betrayal."

"Yeah. I wasn't just jealous of Bonnie; I thought you were a jerk. That you had always been a jerk and that I had been deluded for a year. But now I realize that I was seeing you at your absolute worst. Now I'm seeing you at your best, showing a compassion and a sense of responsibility under a lot of stress. Adam, I - I'd like to start seeing you again. Pretend the last few months never happened."

His face lit up, then it fell. "Do you think it would work? The problems will still be there."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. You think I led you on and dropped you at the last minute. It wasn't on purpose, and I won't make that mistake again." She nerved herself to make the next statement. "I'm still scared of sex, Adam. And I don't think we want to embark on something new with senior year and a lot of decisions ahead of us. But I'll make you a promise. Before graduation, if you still want it, I'll make love with you."

"Let's not bind ourselves with promises, Jane. Just love, and be honest with each other."

They embraced, at last.

Joan wasn't sure how long it lasted; she was rather oblivious of the outside universe. But suddenly she heard her mother's voice behind her saying: "Well, it looks like THEY don't need our help."

Joan disentangled herself and turned around, to see the three grownups. "So what happened?

"Bonnie's agreed to give the child up for adoption, that she's not ready to raise a child," said Rove. "The money should be enough to pay the medical costs and then some. We're hoping that Bonnie's parents will forget about an abortion now that the pregnancy won't be a financial burden to them. If not, she'll let me set up a trust fund for her, to make sure the money doesn't get squandered. At least for the moment, she's relieved to have somebody else make the decisions. And once we know that she's staying for a time, we can make some changes in the house to accommodate her and us. I think that's a permissible use of the money. We'll tell Lily that we needn't depend on the charity."

"So she's going to be under my feet whenever I visit for the next six months," said Joan. "Crap!"

"Cheer up, Joan, it's for the best," said her father.

After a little more practical discussion, the Girardis got back in their car to drive home. Being summer, it was still light at this hour, and Joan spotted a familiar figure on the sidewalk: a bearded man, shabbily dressed, walking somebody's dogs for some extra money.

"Um, I left something back at Adam's," said Joan.

"Do you want us to drive back?"

"Nah, just let me out. I'll walk, and figure out a way home later."

They dropped her off, and she walked back to meet Dog-Walker God. She kept a few feet away, to make sure the various dogs didn't bite or pee on her. The Walker was divine, but his animals definitely weren't. Joan wondered if He had created them as part of his act or actually let himself be hired.

"I'm surprised that you didn't appear earlier, to make sure that I would do the right thing."

"I knew that you'd do the right thing, Joan. You've matured a lot in two years."

"Thank you," she said, startled and pleased. God was rarely that direct with praise. "But I wish you'd give the big picture. I know that you deliberately put me in touch with Adam and Grace two years ago, by having me enroll in their chemistry class. I know Grace's role now. But did you intend for Adam to be my life companion, or did you just send him because I asked for a boyfriend?"

"Do you really want to know what the future holds, Joan? Let your love be a mystery. Though I admit that I allowed recent events to unfold, so that you could learn forgiveness. Before you plunge into the study of law, you need to understand that some things are beyond the law. By the way, there is still one more task."

"I know. But I hate it."

"You'll feel better afterward, Joan. That, I can predict." He went off, controlling the dogs with one hand and making his characteristic wave with the other.

Joan went further back, to the Rove house, and rang the doorbell. The door was answered by Bonnie.

Joan glared. This was the girl who had seduced Adam, and fastened herself onto the family like a leach, and lied to Joan's Mom about the real situation. And she looked frightened, probably wondering if Joan was going to slug her.

What to do? Suddenly Joan's professional training at the bookstore came to her rescue. She willed her face into a smile, and addressed her enemy.

"Can I help you?"

THE END


End file.
